


Stop Leaving.

by D3moira



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: F/M, One Shot, One-Sided Attraction, Short One Shot, Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:37:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7219078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D3moira/pseuds/D3moira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Butch has something to say, and he doesn’t want to be interrupted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stop Leaving.

**Author's Note:**

> Stream of consciousness on Butch and F!LW’s time together during the main quest. Written with no description outside of Butch’s monologue. It’s not especially detailed. It’s very rough, and more for me to get a grip of Butch’s attitude/story.  Swearing, and all the themes in-game. (My Lone Wanderer was Charisma/Small Guns, but it doesn't so much matter. For reference, [anything in this tag](http://xbutch.tumblr.com/tagged/;%7B%20daddy's%20girl%20%7D) aka Marilyn Monroe with a twist of some Fallout aspects.)

I know you’re the smart one, you’re the one who does all the talkin’, but I got some stuff to say. So no talkin’. Not right now.

Heh.

You’re a real piece of shit, y’know that Poindexter?

You left me. First time, didn’t matter. Didn’t feel like it mattered, anyhow. You left the Vault, you left everyone. You had to go find your dad. I get that. And when I saw you running off in that Tunnel Snakes jacket… I don’t know. It made me think, what if I’d given it to you sooner? Instead of being a piece of shit to you, instead of throwing shit at you, instead of stealing your ration coupons… What if we’d been proper friends.

Stupid of me, right?

But you were gone when all that started coming up in my head. And then, with you escaping, with your dad gone, too, I started thinking about why I was stuck in the Vault. You’re a fuckin’ nerd, all brains and words, so how could you be on the surface and I was stuck in the Vault? How did that make any sense? You’re five foot nothin’, you can’t use a gun, or a blade, or nothin’, but you went up there.

And I figured you’d be dead.

That was… Shit. I didn’t think I cared. I shrugged it off, like I did everything else that wasn’t booze or a cute Betty, but then the Vault went to shit. Amata and me, we never were friends, but she started walking ‘round the Vault without all the swagger and goody-goody. She started hanging out where me and the boys were, in the darker parts of the Vault.

That’s when the rebellion formed.

Turns out, Amata was pissed you left. Same as me. ‘Cept I didn’t say that to her. I wanted to get out, and then… That’s what I really thought. I thought I wanted out of the Vault to prove myself, not ‘cause I wanted to find you. Which… Nah. At that point? Me and the Tunnel Snakes, we had a gang to form above ground. So Amata sent out that little message to you, and I remember sitting with her, leg jittering, knuckles white, all – all frustrated. ‘Cause why didn’t I just follow you out of the Vault? I could have. Nothing was keeping me down there.

It took a few weeks for you to get the message. I kept saying you were dead, laughing it off, but that stopped pretty quick. I didn’t want you dead; I never really wanted you dead. I wanted you to stop acting like a goody two-shoes, to stop actin’ like you were the best thing the Vault had to offer. Always had the right answer, always had a smart word to throw around…

And then you showed up. That Assault Rifle on your back, in someone else’s clothes, covered in dirt, blood, brains, shit, you smelled like a dead fuckin’ dog, but – shit. You were alive. I hadn’t even… I didn’t think I’d see you again when you left with that jacket, the Tunnel Snakes one. The one you wore back to the Vault. The one with torn cuffs and bloodied thread.

You looked how I wanted to look, you’d seen the world outside the Vault, and I was so fuckin’ jealous. I should have been with you, up there, when you left. I didn’t give a shit if we never got along, you saved my ma, and I never hated you. I didn’t. I… Who the fuck knows.

But not enough had changed, seems. You walked up to the Overseer, spouted a few pretty words, then the Vault was Amata’s. You didn’t even bat an eyelash, you didn’t touch your weapons, you didn’t do a damn thing but smile and explain the situation… But you stopped on the way out to speak to me. Why? You’d gone from the kid I shoved around to – to who the fuck know’s what. I couldn’t… _Still_ can’t even say what happened to you.

Then Amata told you to scram; that you made everyone fight, and made everyone uncomfortable. The muck you tracked in clashed with the Vault, the smeared dirt, the life you brought in with you… But me? Hell, you were a downright vision. No way I was staying down here, not like last time. I was sick of being a barber, sick of the Vault, sick of the rations, sick of all of it.

That wasn’t a new thing, see. I always wanted out. I never told you that, never thought to, never had a reason to. You were busy with Amata playing the role of goody two-shoes with her, acting like little princesses… You weren’t part of my group, or my gang, or nothing. But things changed. You saved my mom, you took the time to speak to me, you acted like I was a person, not a thug.

Why? You’re stupid. I don’t care how smart you think you are, you’re too goddamn stupid to see a bad person when they’re right in front of you. You help whoever asks, you play nice with everyone, you’re the pinnacle of a fuckin’ saint and it boils my blood. How had you survived up there, when it was supposed to be a bloodbath, a land with no laws, no Overseer, no nothing.

And as soon as you were kicked out by Amata, I followed in your steps. I asked around, I found the place you’d frequented most. RivetCity. The trip from the Vault to the shitty little ship was… Interesting. There was bodies. On the roadside, in ditches, by campsites. The smell was awful, the sun was too fucking bright, and the Geiger counter on my PipBoy – I had to change the levels, it wouldn’t stop fuckin’ pinging. But with my 10mm and my switchblade, I got there, no harm, no foul.

But then what?

What the fuck do I do  _now_?

I never planned this far. I left my whole life behind, my mom, my gang, the Vault, all of it. I had nothing. And I didn’t wait for you, not really. I just needed to see you out here, ‘cause this was your place now. You’d never fit in, in the Vault. We both knew that. I started scrounging up scrap metal, bottles, meds, whatever I could find in nearby campsites and buildings.

Then one night, you turn up. As short as ever, barely coming up to my shoulder, with a gun that was way too big for you and too much shit in your bags. You looked like shit, like the last time I saw you, but you were smiling now. Why? Why did I give a fuck now? I never liked you, I never even tolerated you. I wanted you gone. I wanted you out of the Vault, out of – nah. Not out of my life.

And then it clicked. I wanted you out of the Vault, and I wanted out of the Vault… Maybe I always knew this would be how things worked out. But you hadn’t noticed me, not right away. You’d walked up to Belle – Bella? Whatever – to try and sell whatever you could to her. I interjected, and you smiled.

I’m not a little blushin’ choir boy or nothin’, but you aren’t… Fuck. You don’t get to me like the other girls. I love the other girls, with all their sweet smiles, soft curves, long legs, all that nice stuff. It’s all nice to look at, nice to play with, but you – I never wanted that, none of it. I just liked pissing you off, watching your cheeks turn red, your little fists form by your sides.

Your sweet blonde hair all a mess when we were little, but now? Styled, pin curls by your cheeks. How you found the time was beyond me, but you made it work. I had to admire it, too, the presentation, the attention to detail. As a barber, and an appreciator of fine girls, you were... You _are_ a sight, out in the ruins and the worn out concrete. And there we were in that little bar, drinking whiskey, laughing, and you drop the bomb. You let slip your dad isn’t around anymore. He’s gone. Dead. Just like that, the Wastes have consequence.

The water purifier, the scientists, the GECK, all of it pieces together through time. I joined up with you, to help you carry all your shit. I’m out here scavenging a few caps at a time, while you make a grand off one gun. Didn’t take a genius to know a good opportunity when it presented itself. So I helped you, I followed along, I took care of the roaches, the shitty little bugs that I’d winced at long ago.

This time though, you couldn’t leave me. You left the Vault for your father, you left the Vault for Amata, and now we were cruising together. It took some getting used to. I’d see you and feel like pushing you into the dirt, but I’d catch the impulse before I followed it through. You were still too smart for a girl, you were still too chatty for a shrimp, and you were still too much of a goody two - shoes for the Butch-man, but hell if you weren’t a great travel companion.

We picked up a dog on the way, Dogmeat. You started showing the thing more attention than you showed me, but I wasn’t jealous. That’s stupid, and you’re stupid if you think that. But… The dog did good, found ammo, food, all that stuff. We were a happy little family for a while there. Whenever we’d find a nice house, I think… I’d want to say, hey, maybe we could live here.

And that’s when I realized that maybe I never thought of you like I did all the other girls, but I just thought different things about you. Like, I wanted to hear about your thoughts, and I wanted to ask you questions, and keep you by my side. And the urge to push you into the dirt wasn’t as innocent as it’d once been. That was the hardest part, when we got the GECK and – you left.

_Again._

I was on point, focused, like always, but I was thinkin’, maybe once we get the water purified, that’d be a good time to find somewhere more permanent. I knew you had the house in Megaton, but all those thoughts meant shit all when I got up off the metal grate. Dogmeat had already rushed out after you I figured, seeing as he was long gone. I was just there, with a bitch of a headache and lattice marks across my cheek.

What could _I_ do, though? I didn’t know who’d taken you, I didn’t -- I _don't_ know shit. I had a lump on the back of my head the size of my fist, and all my shit still in place. All your shit, too, the stuff I carried 'cause you asked me to. And the purified water you'd slip me, and the cigarettes... Still have those, now. Couldn't smoke them. I didn't leave right away, before you think I gave up. No. I searched the place, twice over, but not a goddamn thing.

You’d left again.

Whether you’d tricked me, wanting to cut ties, or if someone had taken you, I didn't have a damn clue. I figured you'd wanted to get rid of me, honestly, given you're _you_. Who the hell would be able to kidnap  _you_? That didn’t sit right with the Butch-man. You were too smart, too clever, for that shit to work. So yeah, I thought you were done with me, being too polite to say it to my face. But whatever, didn’t matter.

You were gone.

Again.

A week later, after I’d been wasting all my caps on whiskey and scotch, you turn up. You ran straight at me, you _saw_ me right off the bat. It wasn’t like last time, though. That had been all stupid joy, being out of the Vault, being the badass that I am.

But this time you were bruised up. Bad. God, you had dried blood across your face, smeared makeup, but none of that mattered, not to me, not to you.

That was the first time we hugged.

Maybe the last time, too, but…

I’d known you most of my life, in every class together, living around the corner from one another, and this was the only time I’d ever shown you I cared. And I did care, now. Back in the Vault, I was a piece of shit. I hated you for being smart, when I should have admired you for it. We could have been friends, we could have been so much more than we were.

I fucked up. That's the moral of the story, I'm a fucking idiot, and I guess you knew that already -- of course  _you_ would.

The water purifier was your focus, as it always was. I didn’t get it myself, but I wasn’t in any position to argue. I went with you to the Citadel, I fought alongside you and the Brotherhood, I watched you gun down the guy in the white jacket. I didn’t know who he was, but from the quadruple tap, the emptied clip into his skull, that he’d been the one to off your dad. Or, the one who’d abducted you. Or both. I might’ve kicked him in the ribs on the way up the stairs.

And then you went and did what you’d sobbed about a few weeks prior. Your father irradiated the purifier, to keep the – the Enclave out. For a smart guy, he was all kinds of stupid. I watched you speak to Sarah, to talk about who was going to start the purifier. There wasn’t even a reason to talk about it. I knew. I fuckin’ _knew_. I could see it in your eyes as you stepped back, as you stepped up to the console. I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t even move, I was imagining this, this wasn’t happening.

The stupid smile you threw over your shoulder, the coughing, the blood…

You left _again_.

This time, kitten? I ain’t lettin’ you go. No way, no how.

So you’re gonna wake up from this right fuckin’ now.

You stupid fuckin’ goody two-shoes.


End file.
